


All Damn Day.

by appetency



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, First smut piece on this account holla, Gen, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6272854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appetency/pseuds/appetency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have to wake up early tomorrow, but Steve insists on keeping you up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Damn Day.

**Author's Note:**

> if I were on Jeopardy, my question would be “what is ‘the reason i wrote this?’” for the category “reasons why i’m steve rogers trash”

You were _supposed_ to be sleeping, but that was the last thing on your mind with Steve’s hands running over your sides.

“I’ve gotta go to bed. I have an early morning tomorrow,” you had told him and he gave you a solemn nod before he clicked off the lamp by your bedside. His hand had dragged from the small white switch over the covers to attach itself to your hip.

You had believed that that innocent touch was all he would give. Because, after all, Steve Rogers was a paradigm of virtue -- he would never _dream_ of slipping one of his hands down your panties while the other wrapped around you, traveled up your white tank top, and cupped the soft curve of your breast.

He loved the gasp you made when his fingers chafed your clit and even more when it rose in pitch as he tweaked your nipple. “Oh, _fuck_ , Steve... keep going, keep going --” He could do this all damn night if it meant that he got to hear your whine for him like that.

The wisps of his stubble scraped your shoulder as he mouthed at the slope of your neck. He covered your skin in wet, open-mouthed kisses and lazy flicks from his tongue. Your back arched and his eyes were locked on your chest as he gripped and clutched at it and the way that the white fabric was taut over your breasts; it was more for show than to cover anything up, and he had half a mind to just tear it off.

He had quick hands and thought like a tactician, so his fingers moved across your slit with a purpose. He circled them around your entrance, dipping them in just once before moving back to press against your clit again. He kissed up to your jaw, acting as if he couldn’t hear you begging him to give you just a little more so you could relieve that ache in the pit of your stomach.

“What do you want? This?” he murmured against your skin and punctuated his question with another dip of his fingers. You jolted and the arm wrapped around your torso tightened and pulled you flush against his chest. “This?” he asks again and slid a second finger into you. The moan that slipped from you sent a shiver up his spine and he coaxed another out of you by pumping his fingers faster and faster.

He could feel your body tremble and shake and he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped his throat. He’d burn that image of you writhing and grinding down on his hand in his mind for later.

“Look so good... love you like this--” he pulled at your nipple again, and sucked at a spot on your throat until it turned a faded violet, “Are you close? ...I think you’re close. God, I can feel how stretched you are. What I wouldn’t give to fuck you into these pillows, but you’ve got an _early morning_.”

It took a second for that to register; you didn’t have it in you to even respond to it, anyway. His thumb bumping your clit wasn’t enough to distract from the third finger that he pushed inside of you and at that, your muscles clenched and you squealed.

Your palms buzzed and the tension in you snapped. His arm could only just hold you down as you twisted by him. Your legs squeezed around his hand, you were pulling at the sheets, and you were chanting his name over and over.

Once your cries subsided and you slacked down on the bed, he kissed your cheek, pulled his hands from within your wrinkled clothes, and brushed a stray hair from your cheek. Humming, he left for the bathroom to take a cold shower before joining you back in bed; there was an unspoken promise that this wasn’t over, but for the time, you were tired and he just wanted to feel your sleeping form against his.


End file.
